When we imagine the symbol of justice, we see her clearly: a woman bearing a sword, a scale — and always, a blindfold. The cloth stands as a vow that justice weighs facts, not faces; that power does not tip the scales.

And yet, when the Supreme Court (SC) ruled the articles of impeachment against Vice President (VP) Sara Duterte unconstitutional, was it still a blindfold of objectivity — or a purposive blindness to power?

In December 2024, impeachment complaints were filed against VP Duterte, the majority of which stemmed from allegations of misuse of confidential funds and controversial public statements suggesting violent intent against her former running mate, President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr.

After the first three complaints, the fourth was finally sent to the Senate after gaining support from more than one-third of House members. This formally established the Articles of Impeachment and set the stage for a possible trial.

However, amid the House’s readiness to pursue impeachment and the urgency of the issues raised, the anticipated trial was abruptly interrupted. What could have been a timely and essential reckoning was derailed — not by a lack of evidence or political will, but by a procedural hurdle that shifted focus from substance to technicality.

On July 25, the SC ruled unanimously, through a 13–0 vote, that the articles of impeachment were unconstitutional. The Court dismissed the complaint ab initio on account of the one-year prohibition under Article XI, Section 3(5) of the Constitution and cited an infringement of Duterte’s due process rights.

The Court justified the ruling by stating that the three earlier complaints were considered closed and set aside on February 5,  the same day the House approved the fourth complaint. That date, February 5, became the official marker or “starting point” for the one-year waiting period before a new impeachment complaint could be filed.

This judicial intervention, as procedurally correct as it may be, gives rise to broader questions about access to justice and the role of legal interpretation in either upholding or stifling political accountability.

While constitutional protection is paramount, over-proceduralism diverts attention from the purpose of such systems: ensuring the accountability of public officials. This judgment weakens the democratic function of institutions like the House of Representatives to conduct proper oversight, especially when procedural technicalities can block cases before their merits are even heard.

It sends a concerning message: that procedures can be wielded not to disclose the truth, but to prevent or delay it. It raises the question — when the law becomes a shield for power, who delivers justice to the people?

This excessive reliance on procedural hurdles is not an anomaly, it is a symptom of a deeper institutional tension that spreads beyond courtrooms and into legislatures. The judiciary’s decision, while rooted in constitutional language, was met by lawmakers with a variety of reactions, revealing a simmering divide over how public accountability should be pursued during political crises.

Senators Bam Aquino and Joel Villanueva, for example, contended that the Senate, as a court of impeachment, would proceed with the trial. They further asserted that it is sui generis: a one-of-a-kind institution tasked with forging its own path beyond conventional judicial limits.

Meanwhile, Senators Jinggoy Estrada, Bato Dela Rosa, and Imee Marcos sided with the SC decision, citing judicial supremacy and institutional stability. Their stance reflects a conservative reading of the separation of powers, one that prioritizes stability and legal precedent over urgent political action.

These competing views on constitutional duty carry deep implications for the public and the judiciary. When one branch of government insists on continuing a trial while another halts it, institutional integrity is compromised. This damages public trust in the system of checks and balances and weakens the collective strength of democratic institutions.

Ultimately, this incident should call forth a national reckoning, not just on the charges against the vice president, but on how our institutions respond during political crises. Legal technicality must not come at the cost of suppressing constitutional remedies, especially those in the public interest.

Both chambers of Congress must revisit and strengthen their internal procedures to prevent future procedural roadblocks from derailing legitimate accountability processes. If the Senate insists on being sui generis, it must act like it — not as a passive institution waiting for judicial validation, but as an active court of impeachment vested with the constitutional duty to uphold public trust.

The Senate, in turn, needs to exercise the role of being the ultimate judge in impeachment trials, free from judicial interference. It needs to start debating the merits of the fourth complaint — not for political show, but for the integrity of the system and the people it represents. Legislators need to look beyond partisan affiliations and be unequivocally and transparently decisive in handling the substance of the charges. 

To restore faith in our system of justice, future impeachments must be conducted with both legal gravity and political integrity. Courts should guard against abuse, but they must also ensure they do not shield those in power from legitimate scrutiny. The public are entitled to a justice system that functions not only within the law, but for the sake of truth.

In a democracy, accountability is not just a legal process — it is a moral responsibility.

Sophia Rose Suarez is the associate editor – external of The Angelite for the Publication Year 2025-2026, and writes opinions under the column “Adenosine Triphosphate.”

The views and opinion of the editor does not necessarily reflect those of the publication.